Dead Men Tell No Tales
by JediTears09
Summary: Shepherd goes to recruit Archangel, but finds her old friend unwilling to believe it's really her, back from the dead. Could telling a few embarrassing stories from the old days convince him? Rated T for mild language, violence, and a brief suggestive theme.


_A/N: I was always annoyed how no one seemed to care that Shepherd died, and how easily they believed she was back from the dead. Garrus is smarter than that. Hence, this. Enjoy!  
PS- Personally, I'm a Garrus/Shepherd fan, but you can interpret their relationship however you want in this one._

_. . ._

Dead Men Tell No Tales

. . .

As the first mercenary fell with a Carnifex slug lodged in his spinal cord, a second cried out before they could stop him. "She's with Archangel!" Panicked, the remaining five men began firing, one of them grazing Shepherd's shoulder as she dove for cover. Three of them fell to her squad's guns, one was caught in an explosion, and the last was taken down by a bullet from above. Shepherd caught a glimpse of blue armor as the sniper slipped back behind a pillar. _Archangel. _Thankfully, he seemed to have realized they were on his side, judging by the lack of bullet holes in their heads.

After swiftly dispatching the tech attempting to hack his way into Archangel's hidey-hole, Shepherd slapped the controls, and hoped for a friendly response as the door slid open. Archangel's head snapped around at the sound, and the barrel of his rifle soon followed. For a brief moment, they stood mutely with their fingers tense on the triggers, until Shepherd said tentatively, "Archangel?"

The sniper paused to take out a lingering merc, as quickly and accurately as any top-of-the-line mech, or perhaps more so. As he pulled the thickly plated helmet off and placed it on the table, still looking out the window for more intruders, Shepherd took a sharp breath. No, it couldn't be. What were the odds?

But as he turned to face them, there was no mistaking him – Garrus Vakarian, the very turian who had stood at her side in the face of Sovereign and a seemingly endless army of geth. He settled himself on the arm of a chair, still keeping a grip on his gun. "Shepherd," he said quietly, shaking his head slowly. "I thought you were dead."

"Garrus!" Shepherd cried, genuinely ecstatic to see her old comrade. "What are you doing here?" She took a step forward, intending to throw her arms around him in a bear hug, but-

"Don't move." Garrus had raised his rifle, and was now pointing it squarely at Shepherd's chest.

"Garrus, what is the matter with you? It's me, it's Shepherd!"

Jacob and Mordin both jumped up, pistols trained on Garrus's head. "If he's going to be this much trouble," Jacob barked, "I say we tell the Illusive man to shove it and find ourselves another goddamned turian. One that isn't so ready to point a gun at your head, Commander."

Garrus gave a grunting growl in their direction, but slung the rifle over the back of his chair. He walked slowly to the other side of the room, giving Shepherd a chilling look as he passed her. He stood with his back to them, overlooking the scene of their latest battle, silhouette illuminated by an unsettling combination of pale artificial lighting and the smoky, flickering fires of debris. When he finally spoke, it was with a tone that was devoid of emotion.

"Shepherd is dead. There was an attack on the Normandy. There was no hope of saving the ship, so the Commander gave the evacuation order. Everyone else got into the shuttle alright, but Shepherd insisted on staying behind to rescue the pilot. He made it out okay, but she was-" Garrus gave a little cough, whether from emotion or the dusty debris floating in the air, Shepherd wasn't sure. "She was ripped out of the wrecked ship, and fell through the atmosphere of the planet below. They couldn't find enough of the body for a proper burial.

"All of which you know already, since it seems you've done your homework. But then, you should have known that I wouldn't believe a word of it. The Commander always said I was too hard-headed."

Garrus turned around, his voice and his clenched fists shaking. "So don't you come here, using her name, using her face, and expect me to believe you. If Shepherd was alive, she wouldn't just sit still for two years, letting the council cover up the truth, letting everyone who cared about her think she was dead. She would have let me- let us know, somehow. Shepherd would have found a way."

Jacob and Mordin had their guns pointed at him again, but Shepherd waved them aside. "Stand down!" They didn't know Garrus like she did; he wouldn't shoot unless she _really_ pissed him off. Although, there were very few occasions where she had seen him lose his temper like this.

"Everything you just said is true: my suit was punctured in the explosion that threw me from the Normandy, and I fell through the atmo. You remember Cerberus? We infiltrated some of their experimental labs. They're one of the few who believe that the reapers are coming, even after the council denied the truth to the public. They got it into their heads that I was the only one who could stop the reapers, and spent the last two years reconstructing me."

Garrus snorted. "I know humans don't exactly hold turians in the highest regard, but how stupid do you think I am? That kind of technology doesn't exist." He squinted at her, adjusting his ocular cam. "And whoever did the mod surge on you didn't even get it right. Shepherd had a scar over her left eye. You're just… not quite right."

Shepherd shifted her weight uncomfortably, crossing her arms over the slightly more ample bosom Miranda had "upgraded" her to. "When they reconstructed me, they tweaked a few things. Took away a few scars, fortified a few muscles, even cleared up my athlete's foot. That almost got us killed on Casbin, remember? The geth ambushed us while I had my boots halfway off, and when I jumped up, I fell face-first into a mud puddle. You and Tali had to take out the entire squad by yourselves while I struggled to just stand up." She had hoped the joke would make him crack a smile, but no, nothing.

This was starting to look like a lost cause. Shepherd couldn't blame him, of course. She still didn't quite believe it herself. "What is it going to take to convince you, Garrus?"

The turian sighed, and collapsed back into his chair, dislodging the rifle strap. The heavy gun slipped off the back of the chair, and clattered noisily to the ground. Garrus made a move to pick it up, but Jacob gave him a look that could have burned through steel, so he left it where it fell.

"Using a sniper rifle now, hm? You used to be an assault rifle man, refused to use anything else. I remember once, we had just gotten off of Feros, and we were low on supplies. Kaiden and I went to visit the C-sec supply officer, and they had just gotten in a new stock of specter weapons. We had more credits than we knew what to do with, so we cleared out the whole shop. Boy, was C-sec angry, they had to order a whole new supply before they had even finished inventory that week."

Garrus's expression hadn't changed: dubious, with a hint of fury.

"Anyway, I was taking a couple guns down to the equipment lockers, and you stopped me and said, 'Commander, is that an HMWA Five? Can I take a look at that?'" Shepherd dropped her voice in attempt to mimic Garrus's low, gravelly timbre, but ended up sounding as though someone had just clotheslined her. Garrus's hand twitched, as though he had the sudden urge to actually punch her in the throat, and Shepherd decided to abandon the theatrics and just tell the damn story.

"I'd never seen you so excited about anything. 'This is top of the line; look at the alignment, and the simplified cartridge system? Perfect!'"

Shepherd smiled, the warm feeling of affection growing in her chest. Her eyes had become slightly unfocused; it was as though she was no longer telling a story, but reliving a memory, back when times were simpler, and her crew was still together.

"And Ash – oh, Ash…" Shepherd blinked a few times, clearing away the smallest trace of a tear. "Ash came over, looked at you and said, 'God, Garrus, if a new gun makes you this happy, I'd kill to see your face when somebody gives you a blow job.' Oh, you turned the brightest shade of blue I've ever seen, and you were so flustered you dropped the gun. It went off, and blew a helmet-sized hole in the rear door of the Mako. Ash was laughing so hard, and you just stood there with your mouth open, then stammered at me, 'Sorry, Commander, I – wow, that's some hair trigger on that – I – I'll fix it Commander.'

"I was trying to be professional, but your face – I choked out, 'You keep the gun, Garrus, just don't blow any more holes in my ship,' and ran for the elevator. I barely made it; the doors closed and I laughed for at least two minutes straight. I walked out, and Kaiden was standing there, looking at me like I was crazy.

"And you – you couldn't look anyone in the eye for weeks."

Garrus's face remained impassive, although a light shade of blue was creeping over his cheeks.

Shepherd leaned back in her chair, laughing like she used to, laughing as though the past two years hadn't happened at all. Shepherd's laugh was something Garrus had always liked about her: it was deep, genuine, and infectious. It was also one of the few moments you could glimpse Kate Shepherd through Commander Shepherd's battle-hardened exterior.

Garrus cleared his throat. "Could we talk in private, for a minute?"

Shepherd nodded, and they walked over to the open bay window. Jacob was still watching Garrus like a hawk; Mordin hadn't been paying attention for the last ten minutes, and was now halfway through disassembling one of Garrus's spare sniper rifles. "No, no, no," he muttered, tossing a part to the side, "tension is all wrong. Wonder he hits anything with this, put together incorrectly. Prefer Quarian-made firearms myself, always good craftsmanship. See you have turian-made pistol," he pattered, eying Jacob's M-3 Predator. "Mind if I take a look?" Jacob yanked his gun out of Mordin's reach, and resumed staring at Garrus as though he might pick Shepherd up and hurl her off the balcony.

Garrus had no such intentions. He leaned over the railing, staring off across the compound, features as unreadable as ever, but his voice was thick with emotion, and it gave him away. "It's good to see you, Commander."

Shepherd smiled. "Finally got the message through your thick skull plate, huh? I guess no one else would have known about that. I wasn't even trying to convince you, there, seeing you just reminded me of the old days again."

"It wasn't the story, Shepherd," Garrus said, not looking at her. "That laugh – nobody could fake that."

Shepherd could feel her face turning pink, so she punched him on the arm. "It's good to see you, too, Garrus."

"I just can't believe you're alive, after all this time."

"I can't believe it either."

There were a few moments of comfortable silence.

"So, _Archangel_, what's next? Got a suicidal plan to get us out of here?"

Garrus shot her a roguish grin, and patted the old HMWA Five lodged in his belt. Nothing had gone right for him since Shepherd died, and now that she was here again, Garrus felt like he could take on the world. Which was good, because with the Commander back, that was probably first on the agenda.


End file.
